Woof Woof
by Vanui
Summary: Being a dog's not so bad. Not when you're smitten with your owner.


A/N: Months of not writing, and this is what I come back with. I'm not sorry.

* * *

"Do you like dogs, Akira?"

The girl addressed paused and blinked, mug of tea halfway to her mouth, before she laid her book down on the coffee table and turned to see Sae perched cheerfully on the sofa opposite hers, nursing her own mug between her hands. "Yes…?" she answered slowly, feeling one eyebrow creep up her forehead. The question was innocent enough, but when it came from Sae, she couldn't help but feel a sense of dread tingling down the back of her neck.

"Really?"

"You know I have my own dog at home, Sae. What kind of question is this?" she grunted, slightly irritated that her reading time was being wasted so trivially. The second she spoke, however, the dread she felt increased tenfold, and the beaming smile Sae sent her way didn't help.

"We're college students now, so I was wondering if those collars of yours were going to be a permanent thing," Sae explained, an angelic expression settling onto her face.

Perplexed and more than a little bit scared, Akira hesitantly asked, "And what do my collars have anything to do with liking dogs?"

Instead of answering, Sae lightly tapped one graceful finger on her lips, drawing Akira's attention to their tempting form, before she replaced her digit with the rim of her mug a second later, blowing at the hot liquid as steam floated in front of her dark eyes. They stared knowingly back into Akira's gaze.

Swallowing the sudden lump that'd formed in her throat, she stammered out, "S-Sae?"

Still refusing to answer, Sae bent over the glass surface of the coffee table and set her mug down with a click, giving Akira full view of her round cleavage through the loose v-neck of her white shirt. Dimly, she registered the fact that her friend was sporting lacy black underwear, and while that was a distracting observation in and of itself, it was nothing compared to the view of Sae's creamy thighs as she slipped smoothly off the seat of the couch. She just had to be wearing a skirt, didn't she? And the black thigh highs...

The sight of her skin disappeared once she stood and the skirt fell back down to her knees, but Akira was left paralyzed. Helpless, she watched as her long haired friend moved with all the grace of a feline, her strides reminding her of a cat she'd once seen, one that had been in the middle of stalking a poor, unsuspecting mouse in an alleyway. Her nimble figure slowly began to circle around the edge of the table, towards the loveseat the collared girl sat dumbly on.

She almost jumped at Sae's low, teasing voice. "Say, Akira, did you know I like dogs too?"

"U-Um-" she weakly sputtered, mouth very, very dry.

She giggled. Akira _hated it _when she giggled. Not because it was a bad sound. No. (She actually quite liked it–) Giggles from Sae only meant bad news, usually at her expense. And this time, she felt as if things were _especially_ not going to go her way.

After several seconds of tense silence wherein Sae locked gazes with her and refused to let her look away, it was clear she was waiting for an actual answer. Watching as her friend moved ever closer to where she sat, she, mentally quaking, forced out in a pained wheeze, "Sure?"

That was the moment Sae arrived in front of her, gazing happily down at her sweaty, clammy torso, hands clasped behind her back like a good little schoolgirl. Since she'd already noticed it before, Akira couldn't help but stare at the black lacy bra visible beneath the white exterior of Sae's thin shirt, the sight emphasized by the way her chest thrust out as her shoulders stretched back with her clasped hands.

Somewhere, in a land far, far away, her brain registered the fact that this entire event was a calculated move on Sae's part, but somehow she didn't really care, and if she was being brutally honest, her body was completely incapable of acting on that knowledge anyways, because she was… She felt...

"But that's a lie. I don't really like dogs," Sae murmured, leaning down, face entirely too close to her own, so much so that Akira was one hundred percent sure Sae could feel her heavy breathing cascading over her skin.

Mind spinning, her mouth dropped open in an effort to reply, say something, anything, but nothing came out. She almost went cross-eyed as Sae leaned even _closer_, and then she stopped breathing entirely when she felt one. Cold. Fingertip. Drag over her collarbone and up the skin of her throat. Only to stop. At the edge. Of her collar. Her collar _itched_.

And then she felt nothing except for the next sensation.

Lips brushing against Akira's cheek, Sae whispered, "I only like one dog in particular."

That was all the warning she had before that finger hooked itself beneath the leather of her collar and yanked her forward, straight into the exposed skin of the v-neck and right between–

"So I hope you'll keep on wearing these collars of yours."

A hand settled itself in her short hair and lightly tousled the strands at the top of her head.

"Like a good girl."

And as quickly as it had happened, they separated.

The next thing she knew, her lungs started working again, her heartbeat thudded in her ears, and the world swayed in her view, and yet, somehow, magically, she regained enough of her senses to notice Sae pause in the open doorway at the other end of the room.

"You will, won't you?" she asked coyly over her shoulder, head tilted so her hair stayed out of her eyes.

She blinked.

"Akira?"

And nodded.

The smile she was rewarded with almost had her tail thumping.


End file.
